


Keep Kissing Your Brother

by nightsammy



Series: Threesome!Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Licking, Schmoop, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, mild dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsammy/pseuds/nightsammy
Summary: Dean and Stiles have been dating for four months when they get drunk together for the first time - with Sam. Sam confesses things from his and Dean's childhood that might not be suitable to tell your brother's boyfriend, but Stiles doesn't really mind.





	Keep Kissing Your Brother

**Author's Note:**

> 1) This is Unbeta'd.  
> 2) Ages are a bit different than I guess they would be if this was a canon crossover (because I have a RP with Dean/Stiles, so I use the ages we use there). So Stiles is 20, Dean is 28, which makes Sam 24.  
> 3) English is my second language, so there might be mistakes here and there, but not too bad.  
> 4) Kudos and comments are appreciated and loved.  
> 5) Thanks for reading, you guys are amazing.
> 
> End note: If people like this there might be more. :)

Four months into their relationship, they get drunk together for the first time. It surprises Dean that it has taken them this long, as he usually is under the influence of alcohol through most of his hook-ups. Stiles was never just a hook-up though, he learned that quickly. 

 

It’s not a date, they’re not out in a bar or anything fancy. They’re sitting on the floor of their motel room, sheets, blankets and pillows surrounding them, as well as liquor of different kinds… And Sam. So it’s definitely not romantic or anything sexual going on. At least there shouldn’t be.

 

Dean chuckles drunkenly as he looks around them. «It’s like we’re having a damn slumber party,» he mumbles as a lazy smirk covers his face. He downs another gulp of his drink and hands it over to Stiles, urging him to try it. Stiles hasn’t been going too hard on the alcohol, saying he’s not a big drinker. Dean figures he’s not a good influence. Besides, Stiles is only 20, so technically he’s not even allowed.

 

«Remember how it was your idea?» Sam teases, and Dean wants to protest, but Stiles grins too, so maybe it was Dean’s idea. 

 

It’s one of those nights where they can relax for once, and it’s nice, being able to get drunk and talk about stuff and just hang out. Dean doesn’t say it out loud, but the fact that his boyfriend and his brother get along as well as they do warms his heart, and to be able to spend some quality time with them both without anything urgent pressing on is nice. Even if he might forget parts of it tomorrow.

 

They talk loosely about everything and nothing, about movies, food - where Dean as usual comments on how Sam need to start eating stuff other than rabbit’s food - and Sam arguing against it, and that Dean maybe should lay off the burgers every once in a while. Stiles sits back amused and watches the two brothers bicker, and the resemblance to an old married couple is uncanny. They’ve probably heard it before, so Stiles doesn’t mention it.

 

Then, somehow, they end up talking about sexual stuff. Things they’ve done, weirdest sexual encounters, porn they’ve watched and the weirdest in that category as well. It should probably be awkward, Stiles thinks. Telling Sam about sexual stuff he’s done when he’s pretty sure Sam knows at this point that most of Stiles’ sexual encounters have been with Dean. And that he basically just told Sam that his brother likes his nipples licked and bitten at. Dean just grins lazily, so if Sam knows who he’s talking about, Dean clearly isn’t scared to admit it. 

 

«We, - once, when we were younger - well, several times, actually,» Sam mumbles, almost giggling as he nudges Dean. «Dean and I would like, watch porn together.» 

 

Now _that_ wipes Dean’s smile off of his face. His eyes widen for just a second before he tries to ‘pokerface’ himself as he turns to look at Sam, silently communicating that it might not be the best story to bring up in front of his boyfriend. Sam is drunk though, and clearly not getting it. At Stiles’ arched eyebrow he just laughs and nods.

 

«Oh yeah, it’s true. We jerked off to it too. While sitting there together.» 

 

That’s when Sam, way too late, realizes what he’s actually saying, and as if trying to fix it, he says another thing that (if anything) can only make it worse.

 

«We only made out once though. And we were high.» 

 

Dean wants to punch him.

 

He expects to turn to Stiles and find him disgusted and stumbling up and away and out the door, but Stiles kind of sits there gaping at them, with an unreadable expression. 

 

«You made out?» he asks slowly as he eyes them both. Sam nods and Dean answers gruffly.

«Yeah, _once_.» 

 

Stiles’ face breaks into a grin then, and he leans back on his elbow while lifting the bottle of liquor to his lips. «Do it,» he chuckles, sounding drunk and giddy. «I dare you.» 

 

Dean’s eyebrows arch up and he debates whether or not to take the bottle from Stiles’ hands. He must be pretty far gone at this point, daring Dean to kiss his own brother in front of him. 

 

«No way,» Dean laughs, ignoring the hard beating of his heart against his ribs. 

«Pussy,» Sam snorts out beside him, which earns him a glare from Dean.

«Excuse me?» 

«I said, _puss-_!»

 

Sam’s yanked in then, lips crashing into Dean’s so hard it kind of hurts a bit. Dean’s hand on Sam’s shirt is curled into a tight fist to hold him there, like whoever pulls back first loses, even if it was never a competition to begin with. Dean doesn’t intend to lose though. 

 

It’s only when he feels Sam smile against his lips he realizes Sam’s holding back a laugh, and suddenly they both burst out laughing, lips colliding a bit before they pull back completely. Dean’s eyes linger on Sam for a little bit, tongue swiping over his bottom lip to taste Sam there, and then he’s pulled back into real life and turns to look at Stiles.

 

Stiles, whose watching them with what Dean can only describe as lust filled eyes.

 

«Do it again. Slower,» Stiles says, and this time his voice is different, darker. Dean’s breath catches in his throat and he doesn’t even have time to turn his head before he feels Sam’s lips against the side of his mouth, begging for entrance. His eyes flicker closed and he breathes in shakily as he turns his head and kisses Sam back, lips parting obediently at Sam’s persistent tongue. They never did this. It was never like this.

 

Stiles can’t believe this is happening. He had been shocked at Sam’s confession, and his dare had been as much of a joke as it had been serious, but when it happened all he could think of was how he wanted to keep watching it.

 

So he does. He watches them lick and bite and suck at each other’s lips and tongues, listens to every sound they make muffled against each other, and Stiles presses the heel of his palm against his hardening cock, making a noise of his own. Before he really knows what is happening - because his brain literally can’t keep up with this - he has crawled over, hovering beside them for a second before he reaches out and presses his hand into Dean’s lap.

 

Dean breaks his and Sam’s kiss in a shocked gasp, for a second thinking that’s Sam’s hand, which would be another new thing to him, but it’s not. It’s Stiles’, and as their eyes meet in a long, heated gaze, the hand in Dean’s lap starts rubbing and squeezing through the fabric of his jeans - which feels way too tight now, by the way. 

 

«Stiles?» he whispers as a question, because he’s not sure where this is going, and even in his drunken mind he figures this should be thought about a bit first. Stiles seems determined however and just squeezes his hand around him again.

 

«Just… Keep kissing your brother.» 

 

There’s hands now too, gripping at the lapels of each other’s shirts. There’s pulling at fabric to get the other closer, pushing to get the fabric over and off broad shoulders. Suddenly, Stiles feels kind of left out.

 

«Stop, stop,» he tells them, and they pull back, faces flushed and hair ruffled. They’re both so beautiful like this, Stiles thinks.

 

He looks between them, eyes scanning both their faces for reactions as he asks,

 

«Can I touch you both?» 

 

Dean and Sam’s eyes meet and there’s barely a second passing before Sam breathes out a desperate ‘yes’ in consent, and Dean’s hands are already on Sam’s jeans, fingers working belt buckle and zipper open while his mouth travels down Sam’s jaw and throat, tongue sliding over heated skin as he does.

 

«Pull him out,» Dean murmurs as he reaches blindly for Stiles’ hand. As Dean reaches in to push the fabric of jeans and briefs away, Stiles’ hand reaches in and slides down further, wraps around Sam’s dick and pulls it out. Sam’s hips jerk forward into both their hands, and with a pleading look sent Dean’s way, Dean’s hand wraps around his cock too, both of their hands now covering the length of him. This is the first time Dean actually touches him like this, and he can’t help but give a tight pull of it as he watches Sam’s reaction. «Know you like it tight,» he mutters, voice thick with lust, and Sam whines in surprise at the touch. «Remember how you did it - back then.» 

 

Stiles has imagined threesomes before, was never really interested because he figured he would be too jealous, too out of place. But this might just be the hottest thing Stiles has ever been a part of. He can tell how deep the love between them runs - he figured it was only natural, they’re brothers, he wouldn’t know - but this is different. And maybe Stiles should be jealous, but he isn’t. 

 

Instead he leans in to kiss and nip at Dean’s neck as their hands start moving up and down Sam’s dick. His lips move up to his ear as he whispers,

 

«You love this, don’t you? Touching your brother like this,» Stiles says, feeling Dean take a deep breath beside him. «Does it get you all hot and wet for us?» 

 

For us. Dean figures he must’ve died, and this is what Heaven feels like. He almost whimpers and nods desperately against Sam’s neck, forehead resting against his brother’s collarbone. 

 

«Let us feel you,» Stiles groans, letting go of Sam’s cock momentarily so he can make quick work of Dean’s jeans, getting them open enough to pull the length of his dick out. He’s thicker than Sam, but Stiles thinks Sam’s a bit longer. They’re both big though, and Stiles’ mouth waters. He reaches out, putting a hand on both of their dicks. Sam reaches out too, hesitating before wrapping his hand around Dean’s cock, both him and Dean groaning when he makes contact. 

 

«He really is wet,» Sam whispers, like he’s in awe. «I mean, I knew you would be,» he says as he lifts his gaze to meet Dean’s. «I watched you all those times, so I knew, but I didn’t imagine it being like this.»

 

They keep stroking slowly, but there’s a lot of hands and some awkward angles and they’re all drunk, so it doesn’t work perfectly. They laugh about it, the tiny bit of tension leaving them as they realize they all want this equally as much. 

 

«So,» Stiles starts, hesitating a bit as he reaches up to put his palm against Sam’s cheek. «I haven’t gotten to kiss you yet.» He figures it’s fine, with how both of the brothers agreeing to him touching Sam’s cock, but he still turns to Dean to check if it’s fine. Dean leans back a bit, resting on his elbows as he watches them. He reaches out to touch Stiles’ arm as he nods, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze.

 

Stiles turns back and meets Sam’s gaze, can tell it’s okay for him too, and then their lips meet. Stiles’ heart picks up its speed a bit and he pushes up on his knees to get closer, tongue darting out to lick at Sam’s bottom lip as a request. Sam responds by gripping Stiles’ shirt to pull him closer as he opens his mouth and let their tongues slide together. Stiles’ long fingers slide into Sam’s hair and he moans softly as Sam sucks at his bottom lip. 

 

Dean wraps a hand around his own cock and strokes himself lazily, watching the two of them pressing into each other desperately, fighting over who gets to dominate the kiss. He lets them have their moment before he lifts himself back up, quickly rids himself of pants and shirt, and once he’s fully naked he presses up against Stiles’ back, smiling to himself when he feels Stiles’ breath hitch and his hand coming back to grip at Dean’s side. 

 

«Wanna show Sammy your cock?» he murmurs against the lobe of his ear, letting himself bite at it slightly as he reaches around to open Stiles’ pants slowly, slow enough that if Stiles wants to stop he can. When he just leans into Dean and tilts his head back on his shoulder though, he works faster and pushes the pants and boxers down to Stiles’ knees. Stiles hears Sam groan as his cock is being pulled out, and when Stiles looks up, Sam’s shirt is off as well. And _fuck_.

 

Sam’s hands are placed on Stiles’ hips as he moves closer, and now Stiles is in a Winchester sandwich and he doesn’t ever want to leave. He puts one hand on Sam’s neck and reaches back to put the other on Dean’s, pulling them closer to each other.

 

«Kiss,» he almost commands, and he doesn’t have to tell them twice. They’re both so close that their chests are pressing against Stiles on both sides, and Stiles watches as they make out with each other over his shoulder. The grip he has on both of their necks loosens a bit and he just strokes his hand over their skin, gentle touches urging them to keep going.

 

Dean pulls back then slightly, and then he’s kissing Stiles, with Sam joining in only seconds later. It might be sloppy and angled a bit awkwardly, but it still makes Stiles’ cock twitch and his breath hitch. Sam’s mouth moves away to kiss at Stiles’ neck, teeth grazing skin and old hickeys Dean has put there - because Dean and Stiles are the kind of couple that gives each other hickeys. 

 

Stiles leans in to every touch he’s getting, enjoying the attention and letting him be the centre of it for just a little while. He never would’ve imagined something like this being so intimate, and yet here he is, begging silently for it to never be over.

 

Dean is kissing down the other side of his neck while his hands slide around Stiles and up beneath his shirt.

 

«Gotta get this off too,» he mumbles against Stiles’ skin, and only seconds later Stiles’ shirt is off and thrown behind them somewhere. He jerks in surprise at a pinch of his nipple and Dean chuckles softly behind him, knowing that Stiles is just as into the whole nipple thing as he is. Sam pulls back and gazes down between them, moving one hand up to cover Dean’s on Stiles’ chest. Neither of them move for a bit, and the silence stretches between them. It doesn’t feel awkward though, just… Calm. Nice. Both Dean and Stiles are watching him, waiting for his next move. 

 

Then Sam is moving. He leans down, and before Stiles knows what’s happening there’s a mouth covering his nipple and a tongue licking over it, teasing and wetting it. Stiles gasps and his fingers slide into Sam’s hair to hold him in place. «Oh fuck.» 

 

He feels a hand sliding around his hips then, and then it wraps around his cock tightly. He whimpers in need and leans his head back on Dean’s shoulder, begging him ‘please’. With Dean’s hand on his cock and Sam’s lips and tongue on his nipple he won’t last long. 

 

«Let go, Sweetheart,» Dean murmurs into his ear. «Come for me, for _us_.»

 

Sam looks up as he reaches down to roll Stiles’ balls in his hand, feeling them and rubbing them. He pauses the teasing with his tongue to say ‘yeah, come for us’ before he leans in and bites down hard, and Stiles forgets time and place and he’s pretty sure his own last name as he comes, arching up into their touches. He can feel their hands everywhere, holding him in place, helping him through his climax and the aftershocks, and he goes lax between them as his orgasm slows down into a bliss. His cock twitches weakly in the brothers’ grasps as Stiles eyes the droplets of come on Sam’s chest. 

 

«I - I came on you,» he says matter-of-factly, and he can tell his cheeks are heating up a bit. Sam chuckles a bit and looks down at himself, his thumb flicking over a nipple to scoop some of it up before licking it off. Dean and Stiles are both watching him with heated glances, and Dean can’t wait any longer. He makes sure Stiles is sitting upright so he can move away from behind him, and then he crawls in, moving halfway in-between the other two before leaning in to clean Stiles’ come off of Sam’s chest and belly with his tongue. Sam moans and arches into the touch, while Stiles reaches out to stroke a hand over Dean’s back, urging him on.

 

«You guys are hot,» he says, and for a second he’s not sure if he even says it loud enough for them to hear, but then they turn to look at him and the looks they’re sending him makes him feel like they’re hunters looking at their prey. Which is ironic, he thinks, because they’re hunters. He blames the alcohol when he gets distracted by the thought, and he yelps in surprise when he’s being manhandled back between the two brothers. When hands starts to wander again, as well as lips and tongues, he’s definitely back where he’s supposed to be, and the distracting thoughts disappear as quickly as they came. 

 

They’re closer now, not an inch of space between them. That’s when he realizes Sam’s pants are off too. He feels kind of,

 

«Overdressed. I’m - I need,» he mumbles, pushing at the pants that are still around his knees. Dean pulls him back against his chest and Sam yanks the pants down off his legs, along with socks and briefs. 

 

«That’s better,» Sam says, and then he’s back, pressed up in between Stiles’ now spread legs. The new position makes Stiles’ eyes roll back into his head, and he holds onto Dean tightly, while his legs wrap around Sam’s waist. Dean’s on his knees, with Stiles halfway on top of him, one hand on Dean’s knee and the other on Dean’s waist. 

 

«Come on, come on,» Stiles urges, getting impatient. He digs his heels into Sam’s lower back and his nails into Dean’s thigh, urging them both to move. «Need you both to move. Rub against me and come on me. Wanna feel you both.»

 

The brothers’ eyes meet over Stiles’ shoulder, and as if they can communicate perfectly without using actual words - Stiles is pretty sure they actually can - they move. Stiles is being hoisted up on Sam’s lap, legs on either side of Sam’s thighs, and moments later he feels Dean crowd up behind him, dick riding the curve of his ass. Sam starts thrusting his hips up, the hard length of his cock rubbing against Stiles softer one - although after this Stiles is sure he’ll be ready to go again - while Dean starts pushing his cock along the crease of Stiles’ ass, pushing him forward a bit to get a better angle. 

 

Their movements are already syncing up, hips thrusting against Stiles’, and soon enough Stiles is practically being squished between them, his arms tightly around Sam’s neck and his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. He can tell by their breathing and the quickening of their thrusts that they’re getting close, and Stiles’ nails dig into Sam’s back as he starts babbling.

 

«Fuck. God, you feel so good. Please, please… Don’t stop, keep going,» he moans, and now he’s pushing down against them too, almost riding both of their laps. His toes curl at the feeling of both their cocks rubbing against him, and he’s almost sad he just got off, because he wants to finish along with them. Another time, he figures, hoping there will be one. 

 

He lets go of Sam’s back with one hand so he can reach back to slide his fingers into Dean’s hair, and with a tug and eyes locked with Sam he says,

 

«Need to watch you two fuck sometime,» and a few moments later they both come, almost in sync - like with everything else they do together - and Stiles’ feels it on his belly, chest and back. He smiles softly and pulls them both close when they finish, ignoring the stickiness of it because he feels too good to care.

 

He loses track of time, a mix of alcohol, post-orgasmic bliss and tiredness being the reason, and doesn’t even realize his eyes are slipping closed when he feels a warm, wet washcloth wiping over his belly. He blinks them open tiredly and sees Sam cleaning him off. He doesn’t know where Dean is, he thinks, and realizes he’s laying on his back on the floor now. 

 

«Where’s -,» he begins, but he gets his answer when he sees Dean hovering over him. There’s hands on his arm, pulling, and then he’s up on his feet and being led to the bed. Which seems way bigger now that he looks it. How drunk is he?

 

«Did we switch rooms?» he mumbles confused, thinking for a second they got a King Size now, but Dean only chuckles and flicks the light switch, and Stiles can tell their and Sam’s bed have been pushed together.

 

«We figured -,» Dean starts, shrugging a bit, seemingly a bit awkward. They didn’t talk about what just happened before it did, and they haven’d discussed this either. Maybe Stiles doesn’t want this part of it. 

 

But Stiles only grins sleepily and drops down onto the bed, crawling into the middle. He hopes the beds won’t separate during the night, or he’ll end up on the floor. 

 

«I’m the middle spoon,» he says and curls up, looking pretty content. He’ll probably be asleep before Sam and Dean even get into bed with him.

 

«There’s no such thing,» Dean says as he slips under the duvet, but curls up around his back and tangles their legs together nonetheless. When Sam slips in and flicks off the light, Stiles is already snoring softly between them. 


End file.
